


Check Point

by incorrect19days



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bad Jokes, Fear of Flying, I don’t know what to call the au, Jumanji AU, M/M, Oblivious Keith (Voltron), PTSD, Pining Lance (Voltron), Service Animals, Video Game AU, Violence, i'll add tags as i go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 21:04:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16227290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/incorrect19days/pseuds/incorrect19days
Summary: His name was written on the front in flowing, calligraphy. There was no return address. It was sealed with red wax and stamped with the image of an evergreen tree. If this was his Hogwarts acceptance letter, it’s nearly two decades late.With a frown, he tore the envelope open. Inside was an embossed card, golden letters read:Mr. KoganeYour presence is requested at the reading of your late uncle’s will.Enclosed is a plane ticket to an airport nearest the estate.Lodging will be provided.This invitation does not include a plus one, excluding your Canine Companion.





	Check Point

“God damn lock.” Keith muttered, pushing the door open with his shoulder. The lock had been sticking for months and he spent at least 30 seconds locking and unlocking it every day. He could easily call his landlord and have the thing changed instead of wasting his time and energy fighting the thing, but it’s personal now. If he gave up, the door won, and he’d be damned if he was going to be bested by this slab of wood. If he were to think about it, this would be a decent example of how he handled the vast majority of his problems. 

He kicked the door closed, nearly falling on his face when he stepped on an envelope that had, apparently, been pushed under his door. Depositing the bag of groceries balanced precariously on one arm on the counter, he bent down to pick it up. His name was written on the front in flowing, calligraphy. There was no return address. It was sealed with red wax and stamped with the image of an evergreen tree. If this was his Hogwarts acceptance letter, it’s nearly two decades late.

With a frown, he tore the envelope open. Inside was an embossed card, gold letters read: 

 

Mr. Kogane  
Your presence is requested at the reading of your late uncle’s will.

Enclosed is a plane ticket to an airport nearest the estate.

Lodging will be provided.

 

This invitation does not include a plus one, excluding your Canine Companion.

What the fuck. He glanced down at Cosmo, his ‘Canine Companion’, who wagged his tail at the acknowledgement. Keith motioned for him to follow him to the back door and let them both out into the backyard. He lit a cigarette and sat down on the edge of the porch.

As far as he knew, he didn’t have any uncles. But that was his dad’s side, who knew what was happening on his mom’s side. For all he knew he had a dozen uncles, all with estates, sending horror movie-esque letters post mortem. Tossing the card down, he checked the envelope again and, sure enough, there was a plane ticket. Gate 9A, 8:00 am. The destination was several thousand miles farther away than he’d ever been from home. 

As intriguing as it was, it read like one of those Nigerian prince needing your social security number, bank account information, and mother’s maiden name to transfer you millions of dollars things. Eventually, he decided to call his brother, who answered on the fifth ring with his usual charm. 

“What?”

“I got a letter...”

“Yeah, the thing from dad’s brother. What about it?”

Of course, this probably happens to Shiro several times a year, not weird at all.

“Um… there was a plane ticket…”

“Yes. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that. I can’t get the time off work, so I was hoping you’d go to represent the both of us.”  
Keith scoffed, trying to process the conversation. 

“I have a job too, you know… wait, meaning to? When did you get it?”

“You’re a bartender. Part time.” Shiro said, ignoring the question.

“You’re a criminal. Full time.” Keith countered. There was a long moment of silence before Shiro spoke again.

“...Moving on. I’d like you to go represent us both, any questions for me can be answered via phone call or Skype.”

Keith eyed the ticket dubiously. This wasn’t remotely the response he’d been expecting. He’d been ready for Shiro to tell him he was naive and that it was clearly a scam. But he certainly seemed serious and that was typically an ironclad indication of the truth because he was, arguably, the most boring person alive these days. Looking back, this should have been an indication that something wasn’t quite right.  
Maybe he should go. Shit, it’s not like he had any better offers for the weekend.  
“Sure, why not.” Keith said.  
There was a muffled sound of shifting fabric as Shiro moved the phone from one ear to the other. 

“Great. Don’t dress like a delinquent and text me when you land. Oh, and wear a watch.”

“Yeah, yeah, got it.” Keith grumbled. 

“Keith?” Shiro’s voice was softer now.

“Yes?” 

“Are you ok with this? I can try to get time off work if you’re not. I know how hard this has been on you.”

“I’m fine.” Keith snapped. 

There was silence on Shiro’s end. 

“Shiro, I’m fine. I promise. Can let it go now?”

“Sure, Keith.” He sighed his patented big brother sigh, and they hung up. 

-

While packing, Keith learned that the majority of his wardrobe could be condensed into a duffle bag, so that saved time. He half heartedly folded some things and, tossing a few pairs of socks and a pair of sneakers on top and dropped it by the front door. 

He draped his outfit for the next day, black jeans, a dark red shirt, and a dark gray hoodie over a chair in the kitchen, and shoved a pair of clean socks into his boots. He dug through the drawers in the kitchen until he found Shiro’s birthday present from a few months before. He’d been told it was a watch but when he looked up he couldn’t find anything in their inventory like it. 

It was matte black with a glossy blank face. It looked like a smart watch, but didn’t come with an instruction manual, or charger, or give off any indication it did anything, smart or otherwise. There wasn’t even a place on the back to remove to replace the battery. He sighed, placing it gently on the table next to his delinquent uniform. He’d learned a long time ago that arguing with Shiro is pointless, and trying to understand his actions is even more so.

After several minutes of deliberation, he decided to take a shower now instead of waking up early… earlier. While the water warmed up, he called his boss. He told her that he needed to attend his uncle’s funeral (which wasn’t a lie, maybe) and that he’d be back in a few days. She’d assured him they had everything under control and to let her know if there was anything she could do to help. He said he would and they hung up. He squeezed toothpaste onto his toothbrush and stepped into the shower, thinking about how easy it was to up and walk away from his life. 

Out of the shower, he shoved the essential toiletries into his backpack, and a bag of dog food to the duffle and sat them both next to the door. He plugged his phone in, reminding himself to pack the charger in the morning and waited for Cosmo to join him on the bed. He spent a solid three hours trying to sleep. Around 4:00 am he gave up and spent the next two scrolling through various social media.

No matter how awake you are, getting out of bed at 6 in the morning is a terrible experience, but getting out of bed to go to the airport makes it so much worse. He’d decided to call a taxi instead of driving to the airport, figuring airport parking would fuck him harder than local cab fare. He strapped on Cosmo’s service dog harness, attaching his leash to it and made sure he had his paperwork before gathering his things and going outside to wait for his ride.

After an hour on the road and nearly half an hour in line, where he was told he didn’t need to check either bag, which he would have known if he’d bothered to read any of the many signs he’d passed. He made it to his gate seconds after the final boarding call and had to talk his way onto with a quickly improvised sob story about his dear uncle’s funeral. God this dead uncle thing was turning out to be the best get of jail free card ever. With a sigh of relief, he followed the drafty makeshift hallway to the plane and was ushered aboard by a cute, enthusiastic, stewardess who barely flinched when she saw Cosmo. What a pro.  
Imagine his surprise when he was pointed left, away from coach. He apparently hadn’t paid much attention to his ticket, but checking the stub confirmed it - first class, motherfucker. He had a space that normally held three seats to himself in the form of one large, decked out, recliner. He had his own tv, and a god damn minibar. Nice. 

He tossed both bags onto the seat, guiding Cosmo to jump up and sat down next to him. He turned around to find an equally cute and enthusiastic steward offering him a glass of champagne, just like in the damn movies. He took the glass and they spent a few seconds staring at each other before Keith realized he was waiting for something.

“Oh, do I need to pay for this?” He asked.

“Not at all, sir!” He answered quickly. 

“We’re just about to take off and you can’t have a drink until we’re in the air.

Keith raised an eyebrow.

“But you just handed it to me.”

The man shrugged. 

“You were late.” Fair enough. He drained the glass and handed it back, wincing. Champagne wasn’t exactly his drink of choice. The man smiled and turned away, hurrying back down the aisle. 

Airplanes weren’t exactly Keith’s comfort zone anymore. And by not his comfort zone he means- flying terrifies him and he avoids it at all costs. He knows that, statistically, flying is the safest way to travel, but he also knows that dog’s mouths are cleaner than a human’s but he wasn’t about to make out with a labradoodle, so shut up. He buried his fingers in Cosmo’s fur, earning himself a cold nose in the ear, followed by a lap full of Alaskan Malamute. He took a few deep, soothing, breaths.

He plugged his phone in and settled in for an uncomfortable flight. The steward came by again, asking if he needed anything. He asked for a whiskey, neat. The man smiled and bowed his head, excusing himself. 

When the steward came back with the drink, he also bought a metal bowl and bottle of distilled water for Cosmo. Cute. He stood in the aisle awkwardly for a few seconds longer than necessary before Keith remembered that you have to actually pay for goods and services, even when you’re one of the chosen elite at the front of the plane. He fumbled for his wallet, feeling like an idiot, and dug out his debit card.

The man held up his hands in declination, assuring him drinks were free and that later in the flight he could order a meal. He smiled and nodded, wondering what he was supposed to do in this particular situation. Was he supposed to tip him? What’s the customary tip for whatever is happening here? Eventually, the man left, seemingly dejected. 

Did you know airplanes have WiFi now? Keith didn’t. There were also outlets where he could charge his phone and laptop. He turned the TV on, recognizing the movie, some romantic comedy from a few years ago that he didn’t have any interest in. He turned it back off, plugged his headphones into his phone, and searched spotify for the playlist he was looking for, and settled in. 

All around, it was a good flight. He had a few mind numbing drinks, and managed to get some sleep. 

Cute steward woke him up half an hour before they landed, and he tried to orient himself with the time change. It was actually earlier than it had been when he’d left. He stood, shouldering his backpack and duffle. He switched his phone off airplane mode and waited for service to text Shiro. At the gate, he found a man dressed like a chauffeur from the 1950’s with his name handwritten on a small poster board. Oh. 

Unlike the jaded airport staff, he just about pissed himself when he was approached by Cosmo. That will never cease to be funny. The man offered to take his bags with shaking hands but Keith has declined, telling him they were no trouble. He’d looked almost offended, and Keith passed him the duffle. Compromise. The man lead them through the airport, out the doors, and to - no shit - a limo, and held the back door open. He pointed and Cosmo jumped in, scuffing the leather nicely with his back nails. 

“Um… sorry.” Keith said, watching Cosmo make a mortal enemy of the limo driver. The man shot him a look that said he wasn’t far from it. Spectacular. He slid in after Cosmo, who had already shed the equivalent of a bearskin rug on the seat. Here they were, spreading anger and dog hair wherever they go.

He looked around. An impressive amount of leather, neon track lighting, two large screens playing two different news channels, a mini fridge containing an assortment of alcohol and snacks, and windows so tinted they were opaque. He moved closer, cupping his hands and trying to look out. Not tinted, blacked out, like they’d been painted over. Maybe it was a privacy thing? Like he wasn’t supposed to know his way to ‘the estate’. That’s unsettling. 

He pulled his phone from his pocket, shooting Shiro a text. ‘Landed a few minutes ago. In a limo with blacked out windows. Probably going to be murdered.’ Shiro sent him a thumbs up emoji.  
He tried to respond but his giraffe emoji didn’t go through. Bad service in the murder limo. He was considering trying to figure out one of the several remotes when the privacy window rolled down.  
“We’ll be arriving at our destination in a quarter of an hour, sir. Please, settle in.” Said the driver, rolling the window back up before Keith had a chance to respond. A quarter of an hour? Really? Who talks like that? 

In what felt like a lot longer than 15 minutes, the car slowed and stopped. He gathered his bags and waited for the driver to open the door for him. That wasn’t normally his way, but there was no handle on the inside. Before he could get angry, the door was pulled open and Cosmo jumped out, followed by Keith. Keith stopped in his tracks at the sight of ‘the estate’, and Cosmo scampered away to find something to pee on.

Keith hadn’t known what to expect, but it wasn’t this. He stood at the end of a winding driveway that led down to what he could only describe as a castle. Spires, towers, more windows than he could begin to count. Ivy grew up the expanse of brick. Very gothic.

“Hold up.” Keith said as the man started down the sidewalk.

“If I’m about to inherit the haunted mansion, I don’t want it. The property taxes alone would kill me.”

The man stopped and turned as Cosmo joined Keith.

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to save your questions for the reading of the will.” 

“Is going to have to ask me to the same as telling me?”

He could practically hear the man’s teeth clenching as he turned back and started walking again. Keith smirked at his back but followed, realizing it might not be in his best interests to piss off the dude with the car keys. He stooped to pick up Cosmo’s leash as he took in the sprawling grounds. ‘The estate’ was tucked into a copse of evergreen trees that thickened into the dense forest that surrounded them. 

The limo driver, (he never did learn his name) led him up the slippery stone steps and unlocked the massive double doors with a comically large iron key he pulled from his pocket. The entryway is what’d you’d expect from creepy castles in the middle of the or nowhere. It was all dark wood, dark red patterned rugs on the stone floor. The ceiling was easily 20 feet tall, an enormous chandelier hung above them. A staircase led to a landing and split off to the left and right.

Keith followed him up and to the left, juggling his bags and Canine Companion. The hallway was lit with actual candles along the walls, casting flickering shadows as they passed. Eventually, they stopped in front of one of the many doors and the driver opened it with a different key and gestured inside.

“Coran will be with you shortly, I’m sure.”  
Keith was about to ask who Coran was, but heard the click of the door closing and the scrape of metal on wood as the lock slid home. He glanced down at Cosmo who was giving him a look that clearly said:

“if he murders you and buries you in the woods, I’m going to piss on your grave.” 

That’s fair.


End file.
